


A-side

by Ada_Loveless



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ada_Loveless/pseuds/Ada_Loveless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their meeting for the big battle on Xandar, the team uses the last hours left to check on their weapons. Gamora and Peter choose to prepare in a different kind of way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A-side

"Quill." 

Gamora's husky voice shakes Peter out of his dejection. "I have lived most of my life surrounded by enemies. I'll be grateful to die among my friends." 

Her confidence wins the other comrades. First Drax is standing up beside her, then Groot. In the end, Rocket reluctantly gives in and completes their circle. Even his inevitable mockery of the situation cannot kill the fierceness and spark of hope. In short time they come up with at least 75% of a plan, using inside information Gamora has on the Dark Aster's security flaws. There is no guarantee, but they have no choice, really. Only their team of misfits, armed to the teeth, is standing between Xandar and its destruction by an wrathful Kree warlord, bearing the deadliest weapon known to men.  

To get ready for the fight they all agree to take off a few more hours before breefing Yondu's crew. Rocket leaves first, uttering something about checking his guns. On the way out his wooden companion pats his shoulder reassuringly and rumbles "I ... am Groot". Both leave for the armory and Drax decides to join them to sharpen his knives (again). He cracks his neck, gives a nod to both Gamora and Peter and follows the others to the corridor. 

There is just the two of them left. Heavy silence spreads through the room. Peter catches the look of dark emerald eyes and sees all of his thoughts mirrored. Concern, no, horror widens them. They have seen the violent power of the ancient stone. Its singular capacity of destruction. And in contrast to him, Gamora has seen Ronan in action. He drops his gaze because he can't bare seeing the cold-blooded assassin and extraordinary warrior in terror. Star-Lord or not - this means shit is getting really real for him. Without looking up, he hears Gamora's catlike steps leaving the room. The automatic door whizzes open.

With a big huff leaving his chest, Peter lets himself drop to one of the cargo boxes. He has to keep it together, to make a decent impression for the sake of their mission. For Yondu and the ravagers. For his newly found team. He buries his face in his hands, alone now, letting his guard down. Except he isn't. Gamora is standing still in the door sensor watching his collapsed frame in the middle of the chamber above her shoulder. After a long minute she makes a decision. The door whizzes shut. 

* * *

Locks silently click into place. Peter doesn't even notice the sound, so caught up in himself. Only after a light hand settles on his shoulder, he realizes that he hasn't been alone. He sighs heavily and leans back into the touch. Moving closer, Gamora places his head against her stomach and lays the other hand flat on the man's forehad, covering his eyes. The soothing gesture helps Peter ease up. He needed this a lot. His fingers reach up to close around Gamoras wrist and lead her to stand in front of him. Eyes still closed, he notices her shadow in front of him. He raises his voice. "Sorry. 'ma big boy, I should get it together. It's just..." embarrassment and uncertainty very present in his tone. He loosens his grip and Gamoras hand drops to her side. She clenches it into a fist.

"Don't. Don't be sorry. This might well be a suicide mission, we came up with. We won't know the outcome, 'til the end. But I know for sure - we need to try. Millions of lives depend on this. On us... Let's do this, Peter." At the sound of his name, he opens his eyes. She is watching him from above. "Yeah, we will. But I can see it in your face. And it's freaking me out. You're scared." As she stomachs his words, she starts to shake badly. Fists clenched tightly, she looses her composure and squeezes her eyes shut. Peter knows what's happening inside her, because he has had it himself. 

He vividly remembers the day 26 years ago. Red-hot aching pain in his chest, the smell of dead soil, an icy embrace of fog. The unbearable horror of loss. For decades, it has been tucked away for good. But in times like these it leeches inside both of them. They are wanderers on a path of fate they never chose to take. Either of them is trying to cope with it.

Gently, Peter raises his arms to her shuddering body and guides her to sit on his lap. Gamora gives in and embraces him, hard. The skin of her knuckles change to a light green shade, fingers buried deeply in Peter's broad back. His gut tells him, that the roles have swapped. "Shhhh, easy" he murmurs into her ear. With coarse fingertips he starts massaging her neck soothingly. It takes some time to loosen her up but eventually she stops shaking. Her expression eases against his shoulder and her hands release him of their bruising grip. Gamora breathes deeply now, lost in the smell of the man so very close in her personal space. 

This time, she doesn't back off. She knows he is sincere. Mad times push the true temper of people into perspective. Blown-up egos, poor-played indifference and the brick wall of officially-not-giving-a-damn. When the great rain comes, the fuss goes down the drain. Most certainly she was a little fond of this honest version of him. Never before, she was able to share her troubles before a battle. She is greatful for a companion at her side. That makes it easy to let all of the drama around the self-proclaimed Star-Lord go. The pelvic sorcerer, intergalactical casanova and what not. It was ridiculous anyways. Stripped of all the irritation, she realizes that there is no reason to resist this moment. It is the fix she needs - both of them need. She explores his new proximity. The steady sound of his heart beat. The smell of leather, metal, and a hint of the tart liquid, Rocket always complains about because he feels his "improved olfactory senses" offended by it. Beneath all of it there was the strangely comforting smell of Terran man. 

Peter felt the shift in pace between them and didn't hesitate to pick it up. His fingers roam around Gamoras neck, hovering over smooth alien skin. The slight touch sends electric tingles to her spine and she draws in a breath. She succumbs to the heat radiating off him, feeling hotter than she is used to in her enhanced body. With a dark green flush on her cheeks, she leans out of the embrace they were entangled in. She gives him a low-lidded look and Peter clears his throat. Before he can form any words in his mouth, Gamora moves in close and hooks an arm around his strong neck. Her lips land on his slightly parted ones. 

For seconds he just absorbs the kiss of the deadliest woman of the galaxy. The thrilling beauty of it stirs his blood. Then all the gears in his head seem to kick in. In one fluent motion, he cradles her in his arms and picks her up. Startled, she breaks the kiss. "Lemme show you somethin'" he whispers before locking their lips again. Bridal-style he carries her outside the chamber through the abandoned stern of the pirate ship. He knows where to take her. His feet know the way he has walked hundreds of times. 

 

_Decades ago, a little boy was abducted by space pirates. He is grieving his mother, whom he had just lost. Exhausted from his tears he stumbles through the star ship. The last nights on the top bunk, above a handful of snoring crooks had worn him out. Getting lost in dusty corridors between rusty walls he finds himself above the main propulsion unit. He feels a low humming in his knees as he gets closer. Reaching the backend of the ship, far enough from everyone, he drops to the metal floor. With his back on the wall, he stares blankly at a pile of empty cargo containers across the gangway. His eyelids grow heavy under the buzzing sound of the engines._

_Sleepily, he lays down sideways, propping his head on the backpack he carries with him. Just before drifting off, he notices something odd from his new angle. Few feet away from his face, there is a slit of golden light in the gap between some cargo boxes. A doorway, fully covered by the junk, hides in this wall. His weariness is gone instantly._

_It takes the little boy some time, but he muscles all the stuff away. He manages to pick the outdated doorlock mechanics with his red army-knife. Just after his mom went to the hospital, his grandpa gave it to him. "You gotta be prepared for whatever life throws at you, kid. Else it will hit you in the face."_

_That's how he found his hideout. A forgotten storage room full of even more junk. The promising glow that lured him came from a light plate embedded in the wall, illuminating the room comfortingly. It was enhanced by the natural halo of the galaxies he could see through a big screen window in the ceiling._ _Out of some rectangular boxes and a dusty stretcher, the boy builds a rack. He found the latter next to other damaged and empty medical supply, that looked somehow different than he knew from his mom's room in the hospital._

_Exhausted but relieved, he falls asleep while gazing at vibrant stars in the black space above his bunk. He sneaks away to this hidden place from this day on, securing it with a junk camouflage when he came and left. Whenever he needed to sleep or a pause of his new roughneck family, he came here. Also, it was great for hiding his backpack. And saving his precious walkman from grabby hands._

 

Gamora huffs amusedly "You cherish this gadget like life itself, don't you." Resting her head on his bicep, she lies next to him on the stretcher. Colorful nebula pass outside the window above them. The light reflects off the shiny knives, she agreed to take off for now. Peter withdraws his arm and gets up to ruffle through the junk in one corner. With a satisfied hum, he returns holding a casette in his hand. He sits down and reaches for the device. Under the assassin's examining look, he swaps the tape in his walkman for a new one. Below the transparent display the label says "Star Lord's Mix Vol. 1" in his mothers handwriting. With great precision he winds it up to a certain position. Without any words he puts the headphones on Gamora's head and hits the play button. Gingerly he lies down facing her as she listens to the [song](http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1hi2u_crowded-house-don-t-dream-it-s-over_music) he put on. While she lightly nods to the beat, she catches the man's look of anticipation and assurance. Quill really chose a nice track this time. 

He slips closer and reaches out to stroke a strand of pink and black hair out of her face. Midway through the chorus their lips meet again. Entangled in him, the alien lady deepens the kiss and winds her fingers in his short auburn curls. Then they move to shove off his leather jacket. He gets it off himself and drops it on the floor. Big hands snake around her waist to tug her closer at the small of her back. His stubble scratches the tender spot on her neck as his mouth shifts down her collar. The touch makes her draw in a sharp breath. Gamora is very aware of the burning of his skin and the press of leather against her leg. While their bodies are glued closely together she can feel his palm slipping south and lets out a delicate moan. - That's when the tape finishes with a click. A white noise in the headphones rips her out of their frenzy. Lightly she pushes the human on his back and rolls over to sit on his lap. 

Completely lost, he glares up to her. Blown pupils and a bright blush on his cheeks give away his arousal. She takes off the phones and carefully puts the tape player aside. All but oblivious of the strain in his pants, she hovers above his thighs. Wordlessly she gets up next to the bunk. Still staring, a dumbstruck Peter finally manages to get out an elonganted "Whaaaaaaaat?". 

A little out of breath herself she responses "See, Quill. I know where this is going. Let's just not waste our energy right now. We'll need it." He struggles for words. "Are you serious woman? You like to let me die with blue balls? Damn, you DO suck the joy out of everything." he counters with apparent stress. Gamora genuinely snickers which is a very rare sound to the universe. "No Peter, I don't. I DO have a feeling, that the greatest idiots of the galaxy will die - but not today. It just struck me that we need our strength for it to actually happen."

In a trained manner, she puts her blade back on. After adjusting her suit and hair she bends over him to pat his cheek. With a sly smile the assassin turns around to walk away. "...got off the wrong station. What even." he utters and glares at her backside, while she is leaving him undone in his hideout. Without looking back she states "I didn't say we couldn't continue after the battle, moron. There is still a B-side left on your tape for you to show me."

Few minutes pass until Peter has contained himself again. He sits up on his bunk and ruffles his hair. He shakes his head. What did just happen. To hell, he now has more than one fucking thing to give a shit about. His heart is swelling, his courage returning. Maybe she is right and they will survive it. There's only one thing missing for the winning Star-Lord-feel. It is just an arm's length away. He grabs the casette player to throw back in the _Awesome Mix_ and hits play.

**Author's Note:**

> Think of the story as a cut-out section inbetween the "bunch of jackasses standing in a circle" and Peter getting pumped to "Cherry Bomb" on his tape player.
> 
> First post, thanks a lot for reading and thoughts on it. Please excuse any weird orthography, I'm no native English writer. xx


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